


Lay with me, I'll lay with you

by snowashes



Category: JO1 (Japan Band)
Genre: I has a drinking scene and some sexy time, Its just lot of rambling and cute scenes and some angst too i think?, M/M, i mean its not even that sexy but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowashes/pseuds/snowashes
Summary: There was a sense that he could be wrong again, but as long as he had the right company by his side, was there something to fear?
Relationships: Kimata Syoya/Tsurubo Shion
Kudos: 16





	Lay with me, I'll lay with you

The sour smell of alcohol was slowly fading thanks to the presence of the grilled meat that night; an incandescent spotlight was focused on their small booth. His senses were dozing, his feet felt far from the ground, and his head seemed to float incessantly in some space in this vast universe.

With his eyes closed, Shion took a bitter gulp of alcohol. The sour taste managed to make his palate throb, momentarily dispelling those doubts that hovered over his mind on such a special, yet mundane day.

"So Shion, how does it feel to be an adult?" Syoya asked, bringing him back to reality. A yakitori skewer rested in his graceful hands. "You know, without taking into account that you finally can drink alcohol."

They were in a private izakaya in some neighborhood of Tokyo. Shion had been lost from the moment they got into the taxi and they kindly asked the driver to take them to a discreet place, close to a few entertainment spots.

It had been a difficult year — a year full of radical changes, of constant disappointments and thoughts that surrounded him without premonition every night. It was difficult having to live half the time with a personality that managed to tire you endlessly. 

It had been a year full of coincidences that led him to where he was today. Tsurubo Shion felt that he had matured earlier than required, a product of having to adapt to each new condition.

And, the most particularly complicated thing, was that it had also been a year of feelings that he could never have put a name on them, much less be able to act on them.

"Alcohol is what adds flavor to this age," Shion commented, a small smile dancing on his tired features.

Under the sound of a melodious ballad and the distinctive bustle of the restaurant, Syoya let out a small laugh - his eyes momentarily disappearing behind his glasses and producing a sound so sweet that Shion felt sated.

“What do you think of the yakitori?” Syoya said as he continued his eating activity with a happy attitude on his actions. "Is alcohol more important?"

A small unconscious pout appeared on his red lips. Shion stretched out his hand as if it were a reflex. He came back to reality halfway, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

Syoya dispelled it with a smile, looking nervously at their surroundings. No one else was watching them, but old habits die hard, no matter how safe they felt in any place outside the safety of their apartments.

Shion took a breath, filling his lungs with air and feeling his body relax at the action. At the same moment, an icy hand rested on his. Shion intertwined their fingers, as if it were as natural as the curious throbbing of his chest.

"Hey, how about going to karaoke after dinner?" Syoya said in a whisper, his gaze meeting his fingers. "My treat, of course".

"Sounds good."

Syoya smiled delicately, squeezing Shion’s hands warmly and releasing it after. Shion felt shivers running down his spine, paralyzing him for seconds and pulling him back to reality.

The evening passed between glasses of alcohol and delicious food to satisfy their hunger and entertain them out of the fatigue in their bodies. They finished paying and walked under the mercurial light and the bitter winter in Tokyo.

Shoulder to shoulder, they continued in silence. Lately the time they spend together contained a silence that meant the pause to be able to embark on his own thoughts, the ideal moment to be able to weigh each and one of these details in their memories. Shion feared being optimistic - there was nothing he could win from being optimistic - but he tried to enjoy every moment as if it were their last.

"You have been very quiet." Syoya spoke, this time his voice contrasted with the chills of the night and the sound of a city that never slept. "Tired?"

The last few weeks have been with endless activities and busy schedules from start to finish. Sometimes the fatigue was so extreme that even caffeine couldn’t hide it.

Although Shion felt his body's exhaustion on its own, there was something about this night that didn’t allow him to recognize it.

"A little.” He admitted, after observing that there was no way to hide it—not from Kimata Syoya. "I think I haven't been able to sleep well these last few days."

Syoya absently nodded, thinking of Shion's words. Syoya - more than anyone - knew the veracity of this statement. No one but him was the witness of those nights where Shion's mind wandered a thousand per hour, where fatigue made him go crazy, where the only thing left was to be able to hold on and try to dispel one by one those thoughts that hurt him slowly and painfully.

Those nights were the ones that only consisted of a bitter memory and a sigh that ended up lingering until the next morning.

A presence was felt at his side, Syoya had approached him and, after observing his surroundings, he put his hands in Shion’s trench coat, entwining his fingers in the safety of Shions’s pockets.

Sometimes actions were worth more than just empty words, when there was no need to comfort something that wasn’t in their power, rather than offer constant support.

It was a casual gesture that screamed more than a thousand meanings.

They continued in silence until they reached the recommended place - a decent karaoke located in one of the less crowded neighborhoods of Tokyo. After finishing their drinks and sing a few casual covers, Syoya approached Shion, feeling again as if they were in the assurance of their rooms.

"I’ve been told that I am the king of karaoke." Syoya whispered in his ear. Shion knew that the older one used to hold more alcohol than the other members, but after a few numerous drinks, he could observe that that sheltered shell was breaking and he could observe those cracks opening without restriction. "What do you think about it, Tsurubo?"

Shion began to feel suffocated, trying to breathe for a moment and observe in detail how the man in front of him didn’t take his eyes off him, expecting something instead.

Tsurubo Shion was not a coward, especially when it involved a person as important to him as Kimata Syoya.

Their relationship ranged from the limits of friendship to an affair that overvalued the restrictions that this very bond allowed them. It was as easy as being able to tell that those lips and those eyes were driving him crazy and it was as difficult as being able to know that they were dancing in fire, fearing to be burned completely.

With a bit of audacity produced by the alcohol in his body and thinking “ _ god, fuck it _ ”, Shion broke that distance that separated them, sealing it in a messy kiss.

There was nothing better than knowing that he didn't have to measure himself in his actions, or think about what he would have to do next to dispel the attention. His body was acting on its own, allowing itself to be carried away by those desires that were silent in the shelter of their rooms, in the secret that they kept between them and between those four walls.

" _ Oh _ ", Syoya let out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning entirely against Shion. Shion found his way on the older one, savoring the bitter alcohol in Syoya’s mouth.

His hand ended at Syoya’s waist, while Syoya began to find his way to Shion’s face, holding it between his two hands as if it were such a precious treasure in his possession.

Shion allowed himself to let go of those worried thoughts, focusing only on one presence: Syoya's in front of him. There was nothing better than being able to feel it and know that this was reality, that it wasn’t just another product of his imagination.

Second by second, the air in his lungs began to fade, his senses were keeping an eye on each sigh, each hold, each detour from his face to get a better angle.

_ What better way to consume himself, than in this way _ ?

"Wait, wait, wait." Syoya said as he tried to control himself. It wasn’t the ideal time to forget that they had a name to cling to, or a reputation to care for, even though they could feel completely safe in this private space. "Let's take things slowly, okay?"

The point was that Shion would always agree to Syoya's conditions, he already had it more than known.

"It's my birthday," Shion commented, starting to run his nose over the sensitive skin on Syoya's neck. He delighted himself with Syoya’s scent in one breath, distinguishing that particular smell of lotion and a light touch of citrus.

His lips followed the path of the tip of his nose, brushing the skin and feeling the tremors of the older in his hands. Shion was in the right position of power, one that guaranteed him to be the cause of every reaction on Syoya's part.

"What is your wish then, birthday boy?" It was a question on the air. Because, on the moment he managed to formulate it on those maddeningly pink lips, Shion took advantage of it and returned to Syoya’s pale neck.

"Would you do the inconceivable for me?" Shion asked, his warm breath rumbling at Syoya. The older one clutched his hands on the back of Shion's neck, his eyes narrowed, wandering between reality, fantasy, and the current events. "Tell me now Kimata, I don't have time to figure you out."

"Yes. Of course." Syoya answered breathlessly, leaning his head slightly against that space between Shion's shoulder and his neck. He was trying to catch some of the air after the unexpected kiss. His pupils were dilated; his senses were dazed enough to be able to navigate between his own train of thoughts. "When have I refused? I’ve always been at your feet. "

Shion fell silent, feeling how Syoya in his arms remained stiff, waiting for a congruent answer.

"Is that true?" His voice fell into an unfinished question. Sometimes there was no reason in his head to understand that these feelings were actually reciprocated, that this wasn’t a fallacy, and that he wasn’t rambling between the lines of delusion.

At Syoya's silence, Shion felt his heart in his throat. He could hear every throb of it echoing in his ears, matching Syoya's breathing on his neck.

Syoya ended up holding onto Shion more firmly, his arms resting on his shoulders and extinguishing the distance that had once separated them.

"When have I lied to you, Tsurubo Shion?"

And, at the end of that question, Shion froze.

His memories wandered from that first meeting, in A class. Syoya was nervous — he was always nervous when referring to any stage of Produce — but this time Shion could detect a relaxed smile on the older man when he commented about a dance step they were practicing together. There were drained in sweat, their t-shirts clinging to their backs.

"You know; I've never told you." He stopped for a moment. Syoya was finally on his lap, their entire bodies being embraced into one. There was no beginning, neither an end. "But, you were one of the reasons why I decided to do my best to debut."

Something inside Shion stopped, feeling how the air began to lack again, all the weight of gravity fell on him.

"One of the reasons, Kimata?"

"I can't give you all the credit, Tsurubo."

Shion let out a loud laugh, resting his chin on Syoya. He lightly breathed Syoya’s scent, permeating himself and trying to protect this moment in his mind. They had so few moments of being able to be themselves and, at the moment of untying those invisible chains that bound them to reality, they finally could breathe the air that they needed.

His lips decided to return to the place they belonged, so he ended up back on Syoya's breath, rigorously stealing each contact with such force that it ended up robbing him of a bit of the congruence he had left.

Once again, the air was starting to feel too hot that, as they parted and met his eyes again, pupil to pupil, Shion couldn't help but succumb to his deep desires.

"Thank you." At Syoya's confused look, Shion began to slowly caress his cheeks, feeling how the older's own hands began to wander on his waist. "Thank you for doing your best."

His fingers felt anxious, of those moments when they needed to feel something existing, undo and redo whatever was in their way. It wasn't the right time - it could never be the right time to show how fucking ingrained he was with Kimata Syoya.

But, despite having those restrictions from day to day, Shion allowed himself to forget them for that moment.

Feeling vulnerable to Syoya made him feel naked, in such a way that it kept him on edge all the time. His body began to shake; it was an attempt to try to be as sane as possible.

Syoya separated their bodies, he was staring into Shion’s eyes.

Syoya was the type of people who tried to convey everything behind their gazes, desperately hoping that Shion could pick up on the message easily. In fact, being able to perceive it rescinded in days trying to decipher it, as if it were an impossible puzzle.

After more than a year of knowing him and a few months being the only image he yearned for every morning and every night, it was more than obvious how Syoya conveyed his feelings.

Syoya ended the distance between them again, placing chaste kisses around Shion’s face. When he finished, he turned to him and said, - the breath in his voice getting lost again in the karaoke song they had forgotten.

"Thank you for doing yours."

On their way back home, they ended up on the other's lap - Syoya's face resting in the place it always belonged, their hands joined together in comfortable silence and trying to avoid the curious glances of the taxi driver in the rear view mirror.

And, at the moment they touched known ground, they took the final step to end up consuming themselves in the habitual way.

Skin to skin, look to look, sigh with sigh.

At the end, Shion, while he was observing a bit of the moonlight glistening in Syoya's pupils - who was resting freely on one of the pillows, his hair in a mess and a trace of sweat sailing down his temple -, he knew that he had made the right decisions in his life.

There was a sense that he could be wrong again, but as long as he had the right company by his side, _was there something to fear_?

**Author's Note:**

> Tittle by Maccabees' Toothpaste kisses. Forgive me for the rambling and if it doesnt make sense at all.
> 
> Anyways, thanks to Lau, ao3 god jam, for correcting my incoherent english. As always, please give [takunism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weareinnoir/pseuds/takunism) some love or follow her [jo1taku](https://twitter.com/jo1taku).
> 
> AND you can talk to me or yell at me on my twt, i don't care.
> 
> tw [@syoyalavanda](https://twitter.com/syoyalavanda)


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